


gamer life

by desdemona (LydiaOfNarnia)



Series: scenes from a couch [2]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: M/M, angry kitten kenma
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-30
Updated: 2016-12-30
Packaged: 2018-09-13 11:06:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 827
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9120919
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LydiaOfNarnia/pseuds/desdemona
Summary: When Kuroo was ten, he was scratched badly by a stray cat when he failed to realize it didn't feel like being pet. The incident did little to detract from his love for cats, but he has learned to be cautious. Looking at Kenma now, he wisely decides to step away from the couch. Kenma has the same dangerous look in his eye that the stray cat had so many years ago. A phantom ache over faint scars on Kuroo's arm warns him not to approach."Uhh...hey, Kenma," he greets, a nervous little laugh following his words. "How was your day?"Kenma only glares at him.





	

It's not unusual for Kenma to be standoffish, but it's rare for him to be openly _hostile_.

When Kuroo was ten, he was scratched up pretty badly by a stray cat when he failed to realize it just didn't want to be pet. The incident did little to detract from his love for cats, but he has learned to be cautious. Looking at Kenma now, he wisely decides to step away from the couch. Kenma has the same dangerous look in his eye that the stray cat had so many years ago, and a phantom ache over faint scars on Kuroo's arm warns him not to approach.

"Uhh... _hey_ , Kenma," he greets, a nervous little laugh following his words. "How was your day?"

Kenma stares at him for a long moment, face blank and hard, before turning away. Kuroo grimaces.

Making Kenma mad is a very bad thing, but it also seems to be something he’s good at. Kenma doesn’t lose his temper often; when he does, it is never accompanied by explosive outbursts. Kenma’s anger is more subtle, a snake in the grass, seething and venomous. Kenma can ignore someone like they had never been born; while Kuroo isn't on the receiving end of that treatment often, the few times he has been are not memories he likes to relive.

“Whoa,” he exclaims, lowering himself down on the couch next to his boyfriend. “What's going on? What's wrong?”

Kenma says nothing, turning his head away.

“Kenma. Kitty cat. Honey buns. Love of my life, apple of my eye, the Nintendo to my --” 

“Stop it, Kuroo,” Kenma hisses, something dark flashing in his eyes. Kuroo takes note: Kenma had only snapped when he'd brought up technology.

“Hey, did you lose a game? Are you stuck on a really hard level?” Kuroo can't see how that could be _his_ fault. Kenma is never one to take his frustration out on surrogates. If he has a problem with Kuroo, he is usually willing to say it.

In lieu of trying to provoke him more, Kuroo knits his fingers together and sets his chin upon them, leaning forward. His gaze bears intently into Kenma; who, in turn, refuses to look at him. Kenma frowns down at the coffee table, hands fidgeting in his lap, until he finally grimaces and pushes a couch pillow towards Kuroo’s face. Kuroo bats it away with ease, moving even closer. Now his breath is up against Kenma’s neck, and he can see the twitch in his boyfriend’s eye.

“Kenmaaaa…”

“Cut it out,” seethes Kenma, looking very much like he’s like to throw something else at Kuroo’s face. Kuroo is faster. Before Kenma can say another cross word, he leans forward and presses a quick peck to Kenma’s round cheek.

He's always been weak for quick, casual kisses, and this is no exception. Kenma shuts his eyes, fighting to maintain his anger in the face of Kuroo’s persistent Kurooness. When he finally breaks, it is with a huff of breath -- and a hand that comes up to smack Kuroo on the cheek.

“Ow,” Kuroo deadpans. The blow had hurt less than getting hit with the pillow, but Kenma likes to be tough.

“Last night. I fell asleep, and you turned off my game.”

“You were drooling all over the couch, kitten. I carried you to bed. Remember? I kind of dropped you, but you didn't wake up, so it was fine?”

“Don't tell me that,” Kenma sighs, before continuing. “You turned off my _game_ but you didn't save it, so I lost all the progress I had made on that level. I spent hours working on it.”

“Oh.” Guilt hits Kuroo like a punch to the chest, and he draws away as his face falls. “Shit. I'm sorry. I mean, you can play it again --”

“I don't even want to,” Kenma mutters, drawing his knees up to his chest. “It's no fun playing it over again.”

He's pouting, Kuroo realizes. Kenma is being overdramatic, in the same way Kuroo was when his computer died in the middle of an essay, costing him his work. Then, just like now, Kuroo had needed to make up for what he'd lost. Kenma is more stubborn than Kuroo, however, and has more reason to be irritated.

On the other hand, Kuroo has something to make up for.

“Hey, here's an idea. Let’s do it together!”

Kenma shoots him a wary sideglance. “What?”

“The game. We can play together. We'll beat the level, you and me!”

“Kuro, you suck at games.”

“Yes, I do,” agrees Kuroo. “Which is why I trust you to show me how to play?”

It is an olive branch, extended hopefully. Kuroo stares at Kenma, what he hopes is an endearing smile tugging at his lips. Kenma blinks back, impassive; after a few seconds he sighs again, and a ghost of a smile flickers over his own mouth.

“Fine,” he mutters. “But I get to play first.”


End file.
